


She likes you.

by vaultfox



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, M/M, Melshi POV, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultfox/pseuds/vaultfox
Summary: Melshi's thoughts during the Battle of Endor, where he may or may not have promised a certain Captain that he would keep a certain Sergeant safe, knowing full well he can't promise such a thing.Especially given that the Sergeant he's protecting once came at him with a shovel, and won.





	She likes you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/gifts).



> This is an early Christmas gift for @Brynnmcclean, who introduced me to and welcomed me onto this rarepair raft of Melshi and Cassian as exes who want nothing but the best for each other. I loved the way they wrote the two of them, and how it further extended into Melshi's appreciation and genuine _want_ for Cassian to be happy, even if he wasn't the person to give him that anymore. Their ficlets are brilliant and you should give them a read!!! ([chapters 3 through 5 are Melshi/Cassian w/rebelcaptain implied)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702735/chapters/36522840)

Melshi wasn’t sure how long he’d sat hidden atop the trees of the forest moon Endor, but judging by the loss of feeling in his toes, it had to be around two hours. Jyn was below, decked in strike-team camo and equally camouflaged, ready to strike down any rogue Imperials who might be fleeing the Rebel-overrun shield generator.

Their comms were spotty at best, so he relied on the faint rustle of grass or brief flash of her trousers to ensure she was still below, still mobile, still _safe._

The words were relative of course; a sniper could be hiding just as he was and take her (or him) out in a flash, but the word still echoed in his head, safe. 

She's safe.

_“Just … keep her safe.”_

_“She doesn't need me and you know that,” he mouths the words, remembering the tension strung thick through Cassian’s shoulders. He’d given them a gentle squeeze, some semblance of reassurance, but still knowing he couldn’t outright promise such a thing.  
_

_At least they both knew._

_But if he could ease that tension with a lie, then so be it. They were liars by trade, after all._

* * *

_Cassian cleared his throat, rubbing the spot his hand had warmed moments earlier.  “She likes you, you know. Thinks you work well together.”_

_His breath left him in a rush, so they were trading lies it seemed._

_“Sure, sure,” and he turned towards the ship, but Cassian gripped the crook of his elbow, dark eyes searching his._

_“I mean it, and for what it’s worth, I believe her.”_

The irony wasn’t lost on him, laughing at the memory just two days young, that he’d promised to protect the very person who had once come at him full-force with a shovel. And won.

So it’s a bit fitting that she’s the person hovering above him (‘least he thinks it’s her, hopes it’s her and not some Imperial or bucket-head come to put him out of his misery). She flits in and out of focus, shouting something he can’t quite understand because there’s too much static, too shrill a cry between his eyes that he can’t push through and it’s almost like old times, like when they’d first made unfortunate acquaintances, except that Kaytoo isn’t here to wrangle her off him.

This time, she’s got her hands all over him, screaming and shouting … and he’s _not_ fearing for his life.

At least, not by her own doing, because when he tries to sit up her hand strikes his shoulder, pushing him back towards the dirt while the other jabs a hypo into his thigh.

“Are you alright?” he chokes out, because it’s either that or a cry, and he’s conscious enough to have some semblance of pride.

“Am I alright?” She huffs, biting the cap off a second hypo. “I’m not the one who just fell out a tree, you nerf-herder,” and this time, when she jams in the second dose he does cry out.

When his wits return there’s a weight on his thigh, cloth wrappings pulled taught and tied up close to his groin. There’s blood and too much of it, he hopes it’s all his own. If his lunch wasn’t threatening to come up at the sight of it he’d say thanks, but all he can muster is a half-hearted smirk.

“Oh no you don’t,” she jams another hypo into his neck, and shit it must really be bad because she’s fumbling for the comm on his vest, shouting into his and hers for anyone to hear.

Above him he thinks the sky is exploding. He wants to tell her to leave him, to run. He starts to, he thinks, but she bares her teeth while she cradles his neck, helping him breathe as she looks to the sky.

“Shut it, Ruescott,” she says over her shoulder, and suddenly the trees are spinning, vision tunneling into a blur of green and brown.

“---I --- I’m fine but---,” she’s shouting at someone, maybe him. Maybe base.  Either way, he’s glad to hear it. She’s fine, see?  And she stutters again, growing harder and harder to hear. “I--- we need extraction. If you can ... - I can’t move hi--hey, hey hey … don’t you dare shut your eyes,” is all he hears before his world fades into black.

* * *

The white lights hit him first, the heaviness of the blankets second as they threaten to swallow him whole, his body jack-knifing into a familiar palm that pushes him down into the soft, medbay-issue mattress.

It’s then that he hears chuckling to his left and slowly meets their gaze. It’s Cassian and Jyn, relief etching their features, pulling their chairs closer to his side.

He drags a hand down his face and sighs,  “The kriff happened?”

“An AT-ST happened,” Jyn pushes a cup of water into his hand and stands, crossing the room to pitch it once he’s finished. “--- still not sure how you survived. The whole tree was incinerated.”

Jyn shifts awkwardly, looking like she might return to her seat beside him but instead choosing to lean against the doorframe.

“Well, ah … thanks, for uh,” he gestures wildly with his arms, settling on, “this.”

She smirks and chews her bottom lip. “Don’t thank me too much, the med-droid said it'll scar.”

He can hardly huff a sarcastic laugh before Cassian reassures him,, “You’ll also make a full recovery.”

There’s an odd silence that falls between them, before Jyn begins picking at her nails, avoiding Cassian’s eyes.

“Anyways,” she coughs into her elbow, “I’ll let Solo know you’re up. He’ll want to know your side of things, well … what you can remember.”

A half-hearted smile and she’s gone and the memories come flooding back --- the fire, the explosion, her screaming and hollering and --- the second Death Star. They must have pulled it off, it must be gone. What had he done to deserve living through two Death Stars?

Cassian stands to follow her--- not too close or far as always--- and smiles, letting his knuckles brush against his knee, the warmth radiating deep even through layers of blankets.

“See? Told you she likes you.”


End file.
